Tuesday, March 4, 2014

‘Now that you’ve finished your
breakfast,’ said the Queen, as she peered over her copy of the Daily Nation
which was propped up against the teapot, ‘Don’t forget to take your pills. The
brown one is for your prostate, the yellow one for your kidneys, the green one
for your blood pressure, the white one for your heart, and the bright red one
is for your temper.’

‘I shall swallow them all,’ said His
Excellency King Chumbu. ‘I have to keep fit and healthy in order to rule the
nation!’

‘It says here,’ said the Queen,
reading from the newspaper, ‘that the students are rioting again because they
haven’t been paid their allowances.’

‘That reminds me,’ said the King,
‘that nephew of yours that got redirected from Yunza, what’s his name?’

‘Then we must build one! I’ll ask old
Uncle Alex to get another loan from the World Bank!’

‘It says here,’ said the Queen,
pointing at her newspaper, ‘that yesterday parliament was surrounded by armed
police and…’

But just then the King’s phone rang.
He rummaged for the phone in his dressing gown pocket. ‘Yes, you are speaking
to His Excellency … What? … Chief Kukumukulu? … Escaped from his hut? … Then I
order you to put the entire army on full alert! Declare a State of Emergency!
Confiscate all bicycles!’ Then he turned back to the Queen, ‘You were saying
something, Your Royal Highness?’

‘Yes, Your Excellency, I was just
saying that parliament seems to be in a turmoil over the new…

‘But the phone rang again. ‘What? … Well
arrest him! … ‘What for? Just find an
offence and charge him with it! … Search his house and find something! … Call
in the Trumped Up Charges Commission!’

He turned angrily to the Queen.
‘That’s the last time I’m putting one of your relatives in charge of the
police. Let’s send them all to Peru! We’ll build a very big embassy!’

‘I was trying to tell you, dearest,’
said the Queen gently, ‘that parliament is up in arms, saying that you have
swallowed the Constitution!’

‘Don’t you worry your little head
about them, My Dearest Queen, that place is just an empty talking shop. I am
the one in charge!’ So saying, he puffed out his little chest and declared ‘As
the King I am supposed to swallow the Constitution. I am the Constitution! I
have all the powers in my person!’

‘But parliament is saying that your
powers are fading and you no longer have a strong Constitution,’ said the
Queen, pointing at the newspaper. ‘This editorial says you are preoccupied with
trivial issues while the country is going to rack and ruin. They want a new Constitution.’

Now King Chumbu rose in all his fury
and stood on his dining room chair, grandly addressing his empty dining room as
if it were the entire world, and pointing to the various parts of his royal person
to illustrate the parts of the Constitution. ‘With this brain, I am the
Executive. With this Heart, I am the Judiciary! With this right arm I am the
army! With this other arm I am the Panga Force! With this right foot, I am the
Police Farce! With these eyes I am the Shushushu who peers into every bedroom.
With this bladder I piss on all my critics! With this voice I speak for the
people! With these boots I shall trample on this cheeky parliament…’

But as he explained it all so
eloquently to himself, a rising chant could be heard from the other side of the
palace walls, ‘Constitution! Constitution! Constitution!’

‘But with your ears,’ said the Queen
quietly, ‘you are unable to hear the voice of the people. Your Constitution is
fading. You are losing control. You can’t even control the Paramount Chief
Kukumukulu.’

The King remained standing on his
chair, addressing his invisible supporters. ‘I am the King. I am the State. My
constitution is the State Constitution. I have all the powers!’

But outside the chant grew louder as
the protesters entered the palace grounds. ‘Constitution! Constitution!
Constitution! We want a People’s Constitution! Not the King’s Constitution!’

‘I am the King,’ shouted the King, his
eyes now bulging and his face turning purple. Then he fell down flat on the
floor. His Constitution had collapsed.

The Queen immediately summoned all the
doctors and nurses who were always on hand to attend the ailing king. ‘The time
has come,’ she told them, ‘for the operation.’

When the king came round from the anesthetic
he was covered in bandages and sustained by three different drips and a tube of
oxygen. ‘It was a long transplant operation,’ the Queen whispered to him. ‘We
have given you an ordinary people’s Constitution. That King’s Constitution has
been removed, and turned into a book which explains the various
responsibilities which will now be done by different people, because they were all
too much for one man.’

‘So what job remains for me?’ asked
the thin little voice of what remained of the King.

‘You will take the salute at all march-pasts,’
explained the Queen.

‘Will I have to hold press
conferences?’

‘My poor dearest little Chumbu,’ she
said, putting a kindly hand on his head, ‘even when you had all your powers, you
were too frightened to hold a press conference.’